Wrath of the Wraith
by Skipper311
Summary: To conquer is to be immortal. So goes Ostarion's curse. But nowhere is it written where the Wraith King's blade must land. Seeking a new challenge, the Wraith King steps through the planes to find new land to claim. And so the winds in Valoran shall shift once more. Confirmed cancelled until Reincarnation.
1. Prologue: And So It Begins

I must thank two people for making this story a considerably more possible and definitely less awful. Jedilordrevan for letting me throw ideas back and forth with him until they stuck, and TheBreakfastGenie for making this look a lot better than a bunch of ideas thrown back and forth until they stuck.

* * *

King Ostarion unceremoniously kicked over the statue of the recently deceased lord.

"Very well. I accept your surrender."

He sighed. Put down an insurrection here, conquer an opposing kingdom there, it had all become so very simple. True, it was a necessity of the curse that kept him immortal, but at least he used to enjoy slaying his foes. Now, ever since the War of the Ancients, most warriors were no challenge for him, let alone a match. Worse, his expansion was beginning to push into lands under the influence of his former allies and enemies. As much as he didn't want to admit it, they were more than capable of holding his expansion back. And should that happen… the king of all wraiths would no longer be immortal.

He shook his head. This was not the time to think about this. Now was the time for celebration for another successful campaign. His soldiers were already bringing the loot out of the castle. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an open spell book. Hardly a mage himself, he normally paid them no mind. No, what caught his eye were two words.

Planeswalker Spell.

He smiled. Perhaps he would be immortal yet.

* * *

"Can you do it?"

Azorszos, court mage and skeletal prisoner of the Empire of Wraith, shuffled nervously, skimming over the book.

"I… I, well, Your Highness, thi-this spell is something that could take weeks to prepare! An-and we don't even know if it will work! Even if it does, we don't know where we would end up!"

"I didn't ask that. I asked, can you do it?"

"Couldn't you find someone more experienced in planeswalking than I?"

"Does it look like I can simply write a letter to the Spirit Breaker and ask him nicely? Can you do it?"

"But-"

Ostarion slammed his sword into the ground, earning a startled jump out of the mage. "Can you do it?"

"I, well, I… yes, given enough time, Your Highness."

"Could we make it back?"

"Pr-probably."

"Good. You have a week."

"Thank you, Your- wait, what? A week? That's not nearly enough time!"

But the Wraith King had already turned to leave the mage in his cell. Azorszos looked down once more at the book, and sighed. His work had turned the young prince into the Skeleton King, the Skeleton King into the Wraith King, and now once more he would take part in tragedy. This would not end well.

* * *

The matter settled with the mage, it began to dawn on Ostarion the scale of what he was about to undertake. He was going to go try to conquer a land outside his plane. He would have no real army to command, no kingdom to supply him, no reputation as a feared conqueror. He had no idea where he might end up, let alone who or what he might face. Well, he had some potential ideas, having fought against planeswalkers and otherworldly beings in the War of the Ancients.

Had the influence of the Ancients spread across the planes? Clearly it had some effect, for the war had warranted the attention of beings outside reality itself such as Darkterror the Faceless Void. He would hate to once again be a puppet of theirs, to be used, discarded, and used again by both the Radiant and Dire, like toy soldiers in the hands of young boys. The war had never really ended, two fragments still standing across a river from each other. The final two fragments stood as a reminder of a war that had spanned an entire world, and touched many more.

Sitting on his throne, Ostarion allowed himself to muse on the war's final days. _We were all tired of fighting for their ends. As much as some of us loved the call of battle, not even Mogul Khan would be used anymore. One by one, we stopped fighting, scattering back to our old callings in life. I think some of the heroes held a party in honor of the war's end. I don't remember going._

Even if there were no Ancients, what would he see? He knew he would have to stand against established kingdoms, with their own champions. He might even see a few of his former allies and enemies; after all, more than few of them had crossed dimensions to fight, and he had no doubt they had returned after the war's end.

He chuckled. _I have struck down beings older than time, stood against warriors of countless battles, and slain creatures larger than mountains. Perhaps it is time I truly tested myself again._

* * *

"Your Highness, are you sure you want to go through with this? After all, you've left your kingdom in the hands of your advisors, and you don't even have an heir yet. Not to mention we could die from the start if this goes wrong, or end up-"

"We've come too far to turn back now. My men are already prepared. Are you?"

Azorszos nodded.

"Then begin."

With a sigh, the mage began chanting the incantations before him. The cell began to glow, and soon its inhabitants were glowing as well. The walls faded from sight, and the glow soon followed, leaving the group in a void, with small twinkles of light scattered about. Ostarion marched towards one of the closer lights, the rest following behind.

One of the soldiers asked, "Where are we going?"

The Wraith King grinned. "Forward."

* * *

And so our tale begins. I cannot promise fast updates or epic-length chapters, but I will do my best to not abandon this story. Feedback is more than welcome.


	2. First Blood

The Wraith King groaned. He and his men stood hidden in the trees, sizing up their target, drawing strategies out in the dirt. A fort stood, made of stone and mortar, overlooking the valley. Archers posted in between crenulations. Warriors, each heavily armored and armed, patrolled outside. Above the gate was a royal crest, a skull of… something. Underneath were five letters: Noxus. Ostarion had taken far more impressive forts in his conquests, but now his numbers were far less than an army. The fortress was clearly capable of defending itself, judging by the number of corpses laying at its front door.

_ But where they failed before, they shall succeed… under my command._ Or at least, that was the plan. But without siege equipment, there would be no easy way to break open the walls. Plus, the Wraith King had plans for that fort, and rebuilding it from rubble wasn't among them. Trying to starve out the fort could take weeks. Weeks in which reinforcements could arrive, and probably would arrive, in response to what clearly had been a series of recent attacks. Weeks the Wraith King couldn't afford.

"We could attack from there, but then we'd be picked apart from those archers there… argh!"

"I think… yes, I have an idea," Azorszos walked up to the makeshift map. "Why not just call on the spirits of the dead to fight for you?"

Ostarion pressed his palm into his forehead. "Have you been paying attention at all? We've agreed on that for some time now."

"Well, yes, but that wasn't what I was talking about."

"Oh? Enlighten me, then."

* * *

Commander Jered Moth was having a good day. The Demacian dogs had been throwing themselves against the walls the last few days, to no avail. They had just gotten a new shipment of supplies, and someone had persuaded the higher-ups to send some real food this time. News had arrived that reinforcements would be arriving to finally push the Demacians from their little camp for good. Yes, Jered Moth was having a good day.

_It's almost a shame that they haven't broken through yet… haven't had the chance to bloody my spear at all._

"What… What's going on out there?"

Turning to see the commotion, Jered was greeted with the sight of the dead Demacian soldiers rising once more, their bodies replaced with a green glow. Every single man that Noxus had killed in front of this fort now stood once more, dull vengeance in their eyes.

_What? Demacia is too "honorable" to practice necromancy… or whatever this is._

"No matter. We killed them once, we'll kill them again. Open fire!"

The Noxian archers notched, aimed, and fired. Every arrow found its mark. Every mark failed to flinch.

"Those things aren't human, sir!"

"I don't care! Why don't you go down there and tell us more about them?" Jered sneered, nearly pushing the whiner off with his spear. "They'll die all the same. Fire again!"

* * *

King Ostarion was having a bad day. No wonder they had failed to take the fort while they were alive – these archers had awful aim. Even unable to feel the pain of being stuck with arrows, they had still failed to kill even a single one of their garrisoned foes.

_At least the swordsmen have finished off the outer guard. But no matter how many we kill outside, we're not getting in. I didn't want to have to show myself just yet, but it seems I have little choice._ He beckoned to his men.

"And so, the wraith war begins…"

* * *

"Come on, men! We were slaughtering the dogs earlier! What's the matter now?"

"They just won't die, sir!"

Though he wouldn't dare show it to his soldiers, Jered was getting concerned. They were right: it was taking far more arrows to kill one resurrected soldier than it should have taken to kill several mortal men. It didn't help that they were being sieged by the summation of several failed attempts at once, with a constant stream of arrows flying at the fort. His men outside the gates had since been overrun, and now the gate itself was taking blows from blades of steel.

"If one of them can die, they can all die, and they will all die. We will see to that."

Suddenly, a figure, green like the rest of them, strode out onto the battlefield. Behind him were several more soldiers, their armor unlike anything Jered had seen from Demacia. The figure, presumably their leader, bellowed.

"By the decree of the only king that matters, this fort is now under the jurisdiction of the Empire of Wraith!"

_Wraiths? Guess that's what those are._

"And I'm the princess of Zaun!" Jered grinned. "Doesn't matter. You'll die anyway. All archers, concentrate fire on him!"

_Cut off the head, and the snake dies. Simple._

* * *

Unfazed by the incoming arrows, Ostarion hurled a blast of wraithfire at one of the crenulations. Their archers' aim proved true. He didn't care. His aim proved true. The crenulation shattered. He smiled. He had a feeling they weren't. With each blast, their archers had fewer and fewer places to hide. His archers were finally landing more and more arrows. He grinned. His men were still stuck outside… but the newly deceased weren't.

_Nothing like a little in-fighting to ruin their day. I suppose the mage has some uses after all._

With a roar, Ostarion beckoned to his fallen foes, now his risen minions.

* * *

_I wanted the chance to bloody my spear. Looks like I got it._

Bloody perhaps wasn't the right word, since the wraiths didn't seem to bleed. Nevertheless, Jered had put an end to more enemies in this battle than he could remember ever. Arrows narrowly whizzed past his head. A risen traitor pointed his bow at him. Rolling underneath the barrage, Jered stuck the wraith in the gut, and threw him off the wall.

_Even if we win, I've lost far too many men today. Those reinforcements can't come soon enough._

Thankfully, it seemed that the wraiths fell much more quickly to swords and spears, and a few extra men up top was helping keep the number of risen foes down. But now they had to fight enemies from outside and within, as loyal Noxian soldiers now fought their fallen comrades. Suddenly, Jered had a terrible thought.

"Don't let them take the gatehouse! If they do, the fort is lost! Noxus will not fail today!" He could not let that happen. Jared ran. An archer tried to stab him with an arrow. He batted him aside. A swordsman blocked his way. He vaulted over him. But even as he threw wraiths from the gate's controls, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to have a very bad day.

* * *

I will confess, I did not expect a reaction as large as this one. It may be relatively meager compared to larger stories, but I thank you for your support nonetheless.


	3. Fall and Rise

With a groan and a clang, the steel gate finally gave way to Ostarion's blows. Forcing the gate open, he strode in, as Noxians fell and rose again around him, his men from outside slowly filling in behind him. He turned his head, and locked eyes with that impudent commander from earlier. He grinned. The battle was already won. The last few living enemies were on the run from their reborn former comrades. Now, it was just matter of having some fun for himself.

* * *

_If we can just hold through the night, reinforcements will arrive_. Truth be told, he highly doubted he would live to see these wraiths crushed by Noxus, and crushed they would be. The might of Noxus was far too great. But here and now, every wraith more they put down was a victory in its own right.

As he and his forces were pushed back, Jered would make one final stand. The fort a castle of times past, and Jered had every last living soldier hold the keep. Then Jered saw the leader of these blasted invaders walk towards him. He looked into his eyes for a split second. He saw that smug grin. In that moment, Jered's life was already forfeit.

What mattered was taking that bastard down with him.

With a cry, he leapt from the keep, spearing down a swordsman. He batted away two more and charged right at _him_. An undead Noxian tried to get in his way; he ran him through and flung him over his shoulder. He stabbed another and swung around, the body a makeshift hammer head, knocking away more of the horde in front of him. With an overhead swing, he threw the body from his spear at _him_. He batted it away with his sword.

Jered finally got a clear look at his foe. He stood, clad in gold and dark teal armor. From his body rose a sickly green flame. In his hand was no ordinary sword, but what looked to be the jaw of some great beast. The undead warrior grinned once more. "Back away. He's mine."

* * *

Ostarion had never been a very nimble warrior. The Wraith King tended to prefer the unwavering advance style of combat. He had seen his opponent in action for a while now, and he knew the commander was far more agile than him. But Ostarion would not have come as far as he did if more mobile warriors had bested him.

_Very well. Let's see what you can do._

"I am King Ostarion, King of all Wraiths. You will prostrate yourself."

"I am Jered, commander of the forces of Noxus! And you will die this day!"

With that, Jered charged at Ostarion, stabbing him in the stomach with his spear, then ducking and rolling away from a swing of Ambinerath's jaw. While the Wraith King couldn't feel pain the same way living beings did, he registered another stab of Jered's spear into his back.

_You have some sting to you. Good. Competent field commanders are so hard to find these days._

With his free fist, he swung behind him as he turned, and hit nothing but air. Jered had already rolled away, now using his spear to poke away at the Wraith King, out of reach of his sword. As Ostarion walked forward, Jered continued to walk back. Suddenly, Jered rolled forward, and ran the Wraith King right through the ethereal gut.

Ostarion didn't so much as flinch. Jered barely had time to pull his spear back out before feeling the teeth of the dead dragon dig in, and the weight of the whole jaw swat him aside. A tooth had cut into his arm, leaving a nasty deep gash. He had barely a few seconds to instinctively clutch his wound before another swing of Ostarion's blade demanded he tumble away.

_I suppose all good things must come to an end, and this ends now._

* * *

Although he wouldn't acknowledge it, Jered's heart was pounding. The pain of his injury was starting to get to him. He was having trouble standing. But he would do Noxus a disservice if he did not fight to the last bitter breath.

He barely managed to rise with the support of his spear when he felt a blast of some sickly energy smash into his gut. He stumbled, then tumbled back. His back slammed into a wall, and she slid down, slumped at the base. He looked up as the shadow covered him, looked into the eyes of his soon-to-be killer.

He snarled, even as he coughed up specks of blood. "My death is meaningless. The warriors you killed here today pale in number to the army that will be arriving soon. You will be run over, and you will be crushed. It's simply a shame I won't be around to see it."

"On the contrary. You will be here to see it. In fact, I expect a full report of it." Jered saw the jaw rise above the Wraith King's head.

The last thing he saw in the land of the living was the jaw fall.

* * *

Ostarion ascended the stairs to the keep, and gazed out upon his new base of operations. Noxian flags were already being burnt, soon to be replaced with ones that carried the Empire of Wraith's colors. He peered into the horizon. Forward scouts confirmed the fallen commander's words. But that was not important right now. He looked out upon the soldiers before him. Some were of his homeland. Others were the remains of the fallen warriors outside the gates. Still more once held this fort for Noxus. It was irrelevant now.

"Welcome to all my new subjects! Now, let's get to know each other." A ghostly cheer erupts from the assembled.

Unseen, a raven takes flight.

* * *

An eagle screeches.

"Yeah, I know, Valor. I don't like it either." She sighed. Rangers and archers mill about her.

_No point in putting it off. Time to go meet the new neighbors._

* * *

I will confess, I hoped the battle scene would turn out a little more epic. Hopefully they will become more exciting as we start seeing some champions in combat.


	4. Impact

Azorszos groaned. "Your Highness, you are crazy."

"You are fortunate that your immortality means I can't kill you."

"Believe me, it would be a blessing, that I could die."

Ostarion and Azorszos sat in the mostly intact remains of the keep. Upon the table before them was a map, once used by the now-reanimated Noxian garrison. They had a new base of command. The question at hand now was where to go.

"You can't possibly expect to conquer Noxus in only a month."

"We've angered but a single city-state. It appears to be a rather large city-state, but that's of minor importance. And from what I've gathered from my new subjects, it's a city state that's in direct conflict with another. The only power stopping us is this 'League of Legends' that's lost relevance anyway."

"We have nothing! No production base, no reliable source of soldiers, and no political ties! Do you expect a major representative from a nation to just waltz up to this fort which, according to this map, is in the middle of relative nowhere, and- "

"You need better security."

Azorszos and Ostarion looked up to see a eagle, a piece of armor in its beak, perched upon an arm. Ostarion raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "Well, where are my manners? Come, join us."

* * *

Now, Ostarion never did have the best of luck with wildlife. Maybe it was the whole "undead" thing. Still, most had the sense not the mess with the Wraith King, and he had enough apathy and strength to not mind the ones that did. Looking at the massive eagle before him, though, it was clear it didn't like him, squawking and flapping.

"Valor! That's not nice. He's just as much a king as Jarvan the Third… Even if he doesn't look it."

Ostarion scoffed. "You'll forgive me if I left my more regal attire at home. The armor is more… functional. But that's not why you came here, to make fun of my choice of clothing?"

She sighed. "No… My name's Quinn. I'm a soldier of Demacia. My mission was to capture this fort… but you beat us to it."

"The answer is no."

"Wh-what?"

"No. You're not having it. This fort is now under the jurisdiction of the Empire of Wraith."

"That… that's not _quite_ what I was going to ask." Under her breath, she muttered, "Would have been nice, though.

"What I was going to ask for was… a declaration of cooperation, so to speak."

"You ask for this after cutting through my men and sneaking in? Noxus falls upon this fort tonight, and I could have used them."

"I was going to ask just about that. We would like to aid you in defending this fort…"

"I'm sensing a condition here."

"... if you give us the fort after."

Ostarion was unamused. "No."

"You need us to keep this fort."

"You need us to keep it in your hands."

"Demacia does not usually negotiate with undead warlords."

"But I'm special, is that it? Very well. I shall cede the fortress to you after we finish defending it under one condition."

The eagle gave him an angry stare. "Which is?"

"You work for me once it's done."

"What?" The eagle resumed its angry flapping, and this time its owner made no move to quiet it. "I will never betray Demacia."

"Betrayal? I'm not asking you to betray your home country. I'm just asking for a… change in employer."

"Those two are one in the same."

"Then we are at an impasse. Tonight, the fort returns to Noxus, which displeases us both. A pity."

The woman… Quinn, that was her name, turned away. "A pity indeed."

_I never was one for negotiating anyway_, Ostarion thought as he watched her leave.

* * *

_And now, we wait._ Patience was not one of the strongest virtues of the Wraith King, and he found himself pacing the walls.

_So, I've made two enemies now. Two enemies who will probably both attack tonight._ He smiled. _At least tonight will be more interesting._

"Your Highness, they're here!" Indeed, Ostarion could make our the red banners of war.

"Well, let's not keep them waiting, shall we?"

* * *

Darius strode towards the fort. He wasn't completely clear on who had dared defile Noxian land – Swain said something about wraiths – but he was more than prepared to crush whoever it was. What we was less prepared to see was a small band of soldiers, no more than perhaps a hundred, striding out to meet him and his army, hundreds strong. In front was the supposed leader, the self-proclaimed King of Wraiths.

"Are you the leader of this force?"

"You stand before the only king that matters, King Ostarion of the Empire of Wraith. I accept your surrender."

Darius gave a cross between a grin and a scowl. "Surrender? Don't worry, I won't give you the chance to do that. I'll give you some credit, you took this fort. Too bad that's the last thing you'll have ever done. I am Darius, Command General of the armies of Noxus, and tonight you die."

Battle cries echoed, and the two armies charged towards each other.

* * *

"Wait for it…."

* * *

Azorszos stood atop the walls, overlooking the battle. Though outnumbered, His Highness' ability to call upon the dead helped even the odds. He ducked a few arrows, then returned fire, magically tearing his rib out and shattering it, before blasting the shards into the fray. _Immortality teaches one strange battle habits._

He grimaced. The reincarnated archers alongside him were thinning in number, which freed up more archers to shoot at the still small forward force below. Even Ostarion was immortal, but he wasn't _that_ immortal (if that made any sense).

Out of the corner of his empty eye, he thought he saw movement in the trees where the wraiths had first hid, but he paid it no mind.

* * *

Bone met steel once more, and Ostarion pulled Ambinerath's jaw back as Darius pulled back his axe. Clash after clash, clang after clang, all while the battle raged around them. Darius was not making much progress in killing the Wraith King… but neither was Ostarion coming closer to killing Noxus' Command General.

"I tire of this charade." The Wraith's King's next blow was not met with Darius' axe, but his plated shoulder. Darius returned the favor, his axe cutting into Ostarion's own pauldrons. Two more swings found teeth into Darius' left side, a cut into Ostarion's right.

"I can do this all day, you so-called king."

"Can you do it for longer than I can?"

Blow after blow, Ostarion drank in the essence from the spilled blood. While his foe had no such regenerative ability, he was assuredly determined, and showed no worse for wear. Unfortunately, Ostarion could not quite say the same for his men.

"Even with you reanimating our dead, you've still lost. Your archers are dwindling, your swordsmen fall, and soon you will, too."

Ostarion gripped his sword tighter as the forces of Noxus closed around him. _I don't like where this is going._

* * *

Darius smirked. _Another petty insurrection put down._ He raised his axe up, and felt an arrow stick into his hand. Then another stick his arm. And another. And another.

"What? What is this?"

The cry of "Demacia" was so great that Darius would have sworn that Garen was there. However, he failed to spy Demacia's Might as soldiers clad in blue and gold stormed out of the forest. He failed to spy much more as an eagle's talons filled his face. A swat of his axe thankfully shooed the bird away, and he found himself face to face with –

"Quinn. How nice to see you outside of the Fields."

"A pity I can't say the same, Darius. Fancy meeting you here."

"You almost had us surprised there. Almost." He grinned at Quinn's widening eyes. "But not quite." A rock sailed through the air, crashing into the trees. The trees feel to reveal more Noxian soldiers, hundreds more.

"But there are more important matters at hand. I'm almost sad I won't get to kill you again and again after today."

"You're right. I'll make sure you get some memorial rock in your honor."

A dead soldier sailed between them, chest still smoldering from wraithfire. "So sorry to break up the reunion, but I'm sure you'll both have plenty of time to catch up later… as wraiths."

Soldiers clad in red stood against those clad in blue. Yet others glowed a sickly green, wearing both colors, and fought against all those still living. Darius grinned. Quinn readied her crossbow. Ostarion gripped his sword. Valor squawked.

* * *

Behold and thusly, an update! My thanks to NotNick, who helped with lore and general acceptability.


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